


Spoils of war.

by MyDarkSideWearsPink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Ginny Weasley-centric, Hogwarts, Resistance, Second War with Voldemort, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDarkSideWearsPink/pseuds/MyDarkSideWearsPink
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Spoils of war.

Everyday is a battle.

But it is a small one in regards to the war that’s really going on outside.

It’s almost like a game, really. They are but children, and they are in Hogwarts, the safest place in the world. She has Quidditch practice and a fair lot of Transfiguration homeworks, and sometimes it’s almost as if nothing is different, except 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 is.

Sometimes, she thinks it would be easier to be one of those who pretend, one of the students who just obey, who just sit and watch their world fall apart silently. 

But Ginny never was one to stay quiet and do nothing.

She’s a Weasley through and through, after all. She knows how they look to the world, this odd, old-fashioned family with all the poorly dressed kid, but she also knows who they truly are. How Mum may be a housewife but she cooks for rebels, how Dad works for the government but really against it, how Bill’s honeymoon is a pretext to hide fugitives, how Ron is thought to be sick in the attic but really knows a secret he wouldn’t share with anyone - a secret that can change 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 

And if she can’t join them, Ron and Harry and Hermione, if she can’t leave this damn school, it doesn’t mean she can’t 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. So she does. 

It’s a child's game, really, writing revolutionary propaganda on the walls, defying the authority of her old Potions teacher, meeting friends in secret - except the stakes are much higher than detention. It’s a game, but she plays by her own rules. 

She’s not scared. She is terrified. But she’s a Gryffindor, and she can be brave, because she’s just another soldier in that war. She knows her life isn’t really worth a lot in the grand scheme of things. Not anything more than Cedric’s, Sirius’, or even Dumbledore’s. Not anything more than Harry’s parents’, or every people who has already died for the greater good. Certainly no more than all her friends, her family and all those who have yet to die fighting a lost war.

Everyday she whispers the names to herself, like a melody. Mum, Dad, Charlie. Saying the names out loud helps. Bill, Fleur. Even Percy. Especially Percy. It is the first thing she does in the morning. It’s the last thing she does before she falls in a restless sleep. Family. Fred, George. Friends. Luna, Lee. Tonks. Everyone that ever mattered. She says the names to herself, because she can’t help it. Ron, Hermione, Harry. People may think she’s strange, the last Weasley in Hogwarts, talking to herself, but she’s not crazy. Not yet. Saying their names is the only thing that prevents her from going crazy. Mum, Dad, Bill, Fred. She has no idea where they are now, Ron, Luna, George, or what they are doing, but if she says their names outloud she can pretend they can hear her. Percy, Charlie, Hermione. That they are alive – for now. Harry. 

She’s restless, really, and it’s infuriating, and she wants to be outside, she wants to be with them, to do more. In the dark of the night, sweat sticks to her skin and she’s burning, the fever from the nightmares remind her of the coldness of the marble floors in the chamber. She refuses to let that kind of fear control her ever again. 

She wants to fight for Cedric, who died too young, for the muggleborns who are tortured, for Harry who deserves better, but more than anything, she wants to fight for the little girl she once was, the one whose innocence was stolen with the first brush of a quill against the blank pages of a decades-old diary. 

To be passive is the worst. There’s nothing to do, in the end, but sit and try to not let herself be overwhelmed by her emotions. Worry, everyday she doesn’t receive a letter from Molly. (Her mother knows, obviously, so she writes as much as possible.) Fear, when Luna doesn’t return from Christmas break.

Ron, Hermione, Harry. Her brother, her best friend, her –but let’s not think of that now. There are never news of them; but maybe it’s for the best. It means they haven’t been found yet. It means their mission, whatever dangerous, noble mission they wouldn’t talk about, is still going.

She knows, they all know it : as long as the boy who lived is still alive, the fight is not over. 

The picture of baby Teddy is a reminder of that, the proof that there is still life to be lived, that there is still hope, that they haven’t lost the war 

There's hope. And hope is stronger than fear. 

Hope burns in her veins, hot, pounding, every beat of her heart is another name of a loved one she hasn't lost 𝙮𝙚𝙩. 

It’s a game. One Ginny intends to win.


End file.
